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With my crazy curls pulled high on my head in a bun, a pair of yoga pants, and minty fresh teeth, we cross the street to his car, and I drive out of the city. “It would be easier if I knew where we were going,” I insist.
“And it would be easier if I drove.”
I ignore him because he’s still on pain meds.
We’re about thirty minutes out of town when he begins instructing me with exits and turns. The area is familiar, too familiar, and with each turn, we get closer and closer to my sister’s new home and the threesome’s compound, as Dom calls it.
“Are we going to Cami’s? They left a couple days ago, remember?” Is he still that far out of it with the meds?
“No, we’re not going to Cami’s,” he explains, and we pass the entrance for their home. “Turn right at the next road.”
The compound includes acres upon acres of land. My sister’s home, an old warehouse, takes up only a tenth of the land, and the other two houses being built here are in the first stages of construction.
“Pull over here.” He points to street parking.
“Where are we, Dom?” I ask, a bit concerned he’s overmedicated.
“Be careful getting out, baby,” he commands, as he and Otis wait for me on the sidewalk along with the picnic basket. “Take my hand,” he demands, and he leads me through a wooded area that opens up to the land where the other three houses are being built.
There’s a sign in front of us, and he escorts me over to it. I can’t make out what it is, at first, but as we get closer, it’s blueprints of a house. At the top it says D. Torano Floor Plan.
This isn’t where his brother is building, or at least I don’t think it is. “Why are you showing me your brother’s floor plan?”
He extends his hand over my shoulder, bringing me into his space. “Daimen’s house is in that corner part, past your sister’s house.”
“Whose house is this?” I ask, but my eyes stay trained on the rooms of the floor plan. When I readSandra’s home office,nursery one,nursery two,play room,Sandra and Dom’s masterandOtis’s space, I realize it’sourhome. And throughout endless conversations of what I want in my forever home, he’s paid close attention to it all.
“This is our house. I know you want to be closer to your sister. And we can still keep your apartment in the city, but I want to have space, land, and maybe one day, a swing set for our babies, and a doghouse for this guy. And according to Daimen and Miles, we don’t have to be a threesome to live here, we just have to support their choices, which we already do.”
I turn my head back to the site, and it’s beautiful. Behind us and to the left are trees, giving us privacy. We’ll be in our own little world, but closest to the people we love most.
“We’ll build a fence in our backyard. I’ll line our driveway with shrubbery and trees, and every kind of flower you want. And if you don’t like this floor plan, we can re-do it over and over again until we get it right. And when I say we, I mean Elliot since she’s the architect.”
My eyes stay focused on the site of our future home, and I can imagine birthday parties and holidays, teaching the kids to ride bikes, and handprints in the cement. I turn my attention back to Dom, but this time, I look down, and he’s on one knee.
“Sandra McDonald, will you do me the honor of spending the rest of your life with me?” He slips a large ruby ring onto my finger. “Love me the rest of your life, and I’ll forever prove to you I’ll always put you first, you and our family.”
I kneel in front of him. “Always and forever. But just one thing?” I ask, and his eyes flash with fear.
“Anything, Rosso. Anything.”
I let my lips split into a grin. “If you change a single thing about our house, I’ll break your fingers.”
His lips land on my forehead. “Fuck, you had me there. And when it comes to our life, your every wish is my command.”
epilogue
DOMINIC
Five years later
After livingwith three redheads for the past several years, I have to say they have a temperament all their own. Sandra is calm and collected and cool as a cucumber, ninety-nine percent of the time. But you get her mad, there’s a line that is crossed, and she’ll let you know.
Both twins have Sandra’s wild red locks. They’re both similar to Sandra in this way, though one of the twins has a shorter fuse than the other. They’re our whole world. They turned four a couple months ago, and thank fuck they’re past the terrible threes. But, they’re still a handful. A wonderful handful.
Garet Winslow Torano, named after Sandra’s mom, Margaret, and Mrs. Winslow, is like his mother. Calm until he’s not, but he has to be pushed rather far for that. Blakely Camille, named after Garner’s parents and Sandra’s sister, has a shorter fuse, and when I say shorter, I mean, she gets mad and the whole world knows.
I watch them from the back porch where Sandra is pushing Blakely on the swing set and Garet is enjoying the slide, as he climbs up the steps, slides down, and starts all over again.
